


whipped cream

by MoonlightPale (orphan_account)



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 07:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18361670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MoonlightPale
Summary: It’s an everyday morning when Sasuke realizes a fact. During a daily, mundane task.





	whipped cream

**Author's Note:**

> for an anon prompt! if you want to shoot asks too, visit: [ my blr! ](https://torranceblack.tumblr.com)

It’s an everyday morning when Sasuke realizes a fact. During a daily, mundane task. 

She’s wearing Pikachu pajamas, her hair in a perky ponytail. She grips her medical files, reading out her notes to no-one in particular. Her tee shirt is not hers at all, it’s his ratty old Uchiha v-neck, something he probably lost possession of when she tore it off his body before ravaging him.

And it’s too big for her, obviously. The neck droops, providing Sasuke with her collarbones, the small triangular shadows catching his Sharingan gaze for no apparent reason, the bengals of her pale shoulder—the faded burns there reminding him of their duty.

So yeah, there she is. Her pink fore-locks frame her green eyes, and she dances around the pantry, yammering on about the C-section this and Tympanoplasty that, a pen tucked behind one ear as she roots around Sasuke’s kitchen, plucking coffee powder off his well-arranged cupboards, twirling, watching the milk, reciting the next surgery she has for the day, taking out the sugar. 

Sasuke sips his tea, quietly bringing his mug to his lips, mismatched eyes soft and warm as she pays him no mind. She gets absorbed in her notes, tapping the pen to her lips as she underlined some of her words.

And she completely forgot about her milk. The milk simmers, burbles, begins to rise—

And then Sasuke is there, twisting the knob to a shut, and turning back to glare at her.

Only she’s still scrawling away at the papers, murmuring as she did so. Sasuke rolls his eyes, pouring out the hot contents into a bowl, took out her beloved can of whipped cream—something they have used for more than one purpose, Sasuke recalls—and pressing the nozzle to form a perfect dollop of creamy froth. 

Sakura presses a phone to one ear. “Yes, Ando. Sakura calling. I needed to—please don't call me Shishou. Yes, I’m not as old as Granny, thank you—so, as I was saying, the Tympanoplasty, it’s not that big of a deal, no? We can push it over. Yeah, so I was thinking…”

Sasuke hands her the mug, and she gives him a half-minded smile, taking the steaming coffee, and sipped it.

She pulled the cup away from her lips, and it left behind a fluffy imprint of the whipped cream on her upper lips. She paid no mind, continuing to talk to Ando, making some more incoherent notes. 

Sasuke watches her, admiring the ease she was at, the white cream moustache on her lips, spouting biological terms Sasuke can only hope are not as painful as they sound. 

She reminds Ando to not call her shishou, for fucks sake, and not Sensei either, goddammit!

He laughs, a monosyllable sigh at the woman he loves, at her antics. 

And then he freezes.

_The woman he loves._

An odd warmth rushes over him, much like the brief lull of inhalation before expelling a massive inferno through his lips, except this sensation lingers.

She bids Ando his day’s goodness. She cuts the phone, and looks up at him, noticing the meticulous way with which he was staring.

“What?” She frowns. 

Sasuke doesn’t answer, because he just doesn’t know.

He probably loved her for longer than just mere seconds ago. It’s more of a realization of a mere truth, and he continues to watch her, fingers tapping away at her phone to call another person.

And before he knows it, he’s pressing a kiss to her neck, a finger in her tied locks, inhaling her cherry-apple scent, and she looks more puzzled, pressing the phone to her ears and mouthing, a “what?” again.

He draws back, to look at her. Her green eyes, her creased pale brows, the alabaster slopes of her skin, the knicks and scars marring her.

And he uses the pad of his thumb to wipe at the whipped cream on her lips, taking great care and time to glide over her lips.

She giggles at that, and then there’s a crackle on her phone.

“Shizune?” She asks, and she picks up a pair of eggs from behind Sasuke’s back. “Yeah, about the four o’ clock…”

And she walks away again, cracking the eggs on the table and using her other hand to underline some more notes.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! drop your thoughts :)


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